


Reason #1 Why Rodney Likes Food

by igiveup101



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hypoglycemia, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-18 18:50:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4716707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/igiveup101/pseuds/igiveup101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Fine,” Rodney gave in, shoulders slumped. “But you’ll be sorry when I’m dying of hypoglycemic shock.”</p><p>OR Sheppard and the team agree to sit and reflect for a few hours. It goes, predictably, horribly awry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No One Ever Listens to Rodney

It wasn’t like Rodney had _meant_ to be rude.

He’d merely pointed out what seemed like obvious inconsistencies in their supposed beliefs, which he thought counted as more of a humanitarian act. Either they’d work on bettering their religious stories and get a clearer picture of their made-up gods, or they’d realize that the whole thing was kind of silly and let it go, becoming a more scientific community and advancing more quickly. It was what he called a win-win situation. Sheppard and Teyla, apparently, didn’t see it that way.

Neither did the Arkenians. The team was now surrounded by angry natives with weapons, which, while a familiar sight, was not a welcome one. Fortunately, their leader was a calm, jovial man, who seemed experienced in dealing with loudmouthed, opinionated foreigners. As a result, while he was clearly not pleased with Rodney’s remarks, he was also still open to negotiation. He knew what Atlantis had to offer and he wanted it.

“I apologize sincerely for my friend Dr. McKay’s insensitive remarks, Tamen. He was raised in a godless home and has not learned decency,” Teyla assured the native leader. McKay shot her a dirty look, but she ignored him. “The rest of us do not hold the same opinions, and ask for your forgiveness.”

Tamen seemed to consider this, and John decided to sweeten the deal. “We can also throw in another bag of cauliflower.”

Now Tamen seemed pleased, and nodded. “Very well. We would ask for your participation in a traditional ritual of penance, as well. Would that be acceptable?”

At the mention of a ritual, everybody seemed to tense; those tended to go horribly wrong. McKay stepped back a bit while Sheppard and Ronon ‘discretely’ fondled their weapons. Teyla, in what was likely the most reasonable response, asked, “What, in detail, would this ritual entail?”

Tamen smiled. “I see you are concerned; you need not be. We are not barbarians here, and feel no need to inflict pain on those who do not truly deserve it. Rather, we prefer to allow those who stumble from the path to find their way back and reflect on their… mistakes. We would only need you to enter the Chamber of Reflection and consider what was wrong with your statements. No one will touch you or harm you in any way. After a period of eight hours, you will be released, and the entire incident will be forgotten.”

“You’re giving me a time out?” Rodney asked incredulously.

“Shut up, McKay.” John hissed under his breath. Then, at normal volume, “Would the whole team have to do it?”

Tamen smiled again- it was almost disconcerting how friendly this man was. “If you don’t mind.”

John considered this. “Can we have a minute to think it over?” When Tamen nodded, John pulled Teyla to the side. “Can we trust them?”

Teyla nodded immediately. “My people have done trade with theirs for generations, and we have always found them to be good people. They have never hurt anybody that we are aware of, nor have they attempted to cheat us out of a deal. A few Athosians have been through the ritual before, and no harm has ever come to them.”

“Are you sure? You thought the Genii were safe, too, and these missions have a habit of going sideways.”

Teyla’s face hardened at the mention of the Genii. “It is true, I was deceived by the Genii, but I trust the Arkenians. Are you questioning my judgement, John?”

“No,”  John was sure of that much. “I just wanted to make sure we weren’t getting ourselves into anything we shouldn’t.”

Satisfied with their decision, the two walked back to where the others waited for them. Rodney seemed slightly put out at having been left out of the decision-making process, but Ronon didn’t seem too interested. “So?” Rodney asked.

“We’ll be happy to do it,” John smiled at the natives.

“What? No, we won’t be! In case you’ve forgotten, Sheppard, I get hypoglycemic like _that_ ,” Rodney said, snapping his fingers.

Sheppard rolled his eyes. “It’s just a few hours, Rodney. You’ll live. You’re not the only one who has to do this, you know.”

“But I was busy in the lab this morning, I barely had breakfast.” Rodney protested weakly.

“That was your decision, not ours,” John reminded him. Then, slightly lower, “You’re the one who got us into this in the first place, McKay. Insulting a whole planet’s religion? What the hell were you thinking? Were you _trying_ to get us killed?”

“Fine,” Rodney gave in, shoulders slumped. “But you’ll be sorry when I’m dying of hypoglycemic shock,” he added petulantly.

John ignored him, turning back to Tamen. “Great. Now that that’s settled, we’ll have to check in with Atlantis, and then we’ll be happy to complete the ritual.”

Half an hour later, after trekking back to the gate, checking in with Weir, and coming back, the team was being led into the woods. Rodney had a really bad feeling about this. True, he had a bad feeling about most things, but this in particular seemed like a genuinely terrible idea.

When they got to what was, apparently, the Chamber of Reflection, they were stripped of most of their gear. Ronon refused to let them take his blaster, and, with a tight-lipped smile, Tamen agreed to let him keep it. In return, Ronon gave them seven of his knives. That wasn’t all of them, but it was enough to be a significant sign of good faith.

“Wait, they can’t take my stuff!” Rodney protested. “I have important stuff in there!”

John gave him a sharp look. Why did McKay have to make everything so difficult? “Like what?”

“Like- like my epi-pen,” Rodney responded, jutting his chin upwards.

“I highly doubt you’ll need it in there, unless stone walls are usually coated in citrus?”

“Well- and my power bars.”

Tamen stepped in, feeling slightly less gracious than before. “The purpose of the ritual is to reflect on your behavior, not to enjoy yourself.”

“Ronon got to keep his blaster!”

“Your friend is a warrior, and we understand that it would be much to ask for all of you to be completely disarmed.”

“But it’s not too much to ask me to _starve_ to death?” Rodney exclaimed incredulously.

Tamen’s face tightened in irritation. “No one who has undergone this ritual has ever starved or had any major medical complications. I believe you will be fine; and may I remind you that your team is doing this because of _your_ thoughtlessness, and not theirs? If it were not for the traditions of my people, I would be happy to leave them be, because they have proven themselves to be friends to the Arkenians. I can _not_ say that you have even been attempting to do the same.”

“But-”

“ _Rodney_ ,” Sheppard grabbed his arm, voice low. “It’s just a few hours. Even you can do that, can’t you?”

That seemed to work, finally. Rodney straightened indignantly. “Of course. I was just worried that the process of sitting and thinking at the same time might be a little too complicated for you.”

John smirked at that, and the team was led inside the Chamber. “We’ll be back for you in eight hours. We trust you’ll be well,” Tamen said, closing the door. It wasn’t dark in the room, but it was dim, and it was completely empty.

 **  
** “Well,” John said, settling down. “This is going to be fun.”


	2. Things Go Wrong

It was not fun.

 

Listening to John check with Teyla- repeatedly- to make sure that there was no twist ending to this ritual where hundreds of angry bees or something flew out of the wall was not fun. Being shushed and reminded that he was supposed to ‘reflect’ every time he tried to talk was not fun. Watching Teyla, Ronon, and Sheppard take turns beating each other up (they called it ‘sparring’) was not fun.

 

Finally, God knows how long after they were put there, Teyla told Rodney that he’d been reflecting for long enough and that she was sure he’d learned his lesson. He considered reminding her that she wasn’t his mother, but decided against it. Instead, he took a page out of Ronon’s book and grunted at her.

 

Sheppard shot him a weird look. “You okay, McKay?”

 

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure, I’m locked in some bizarre cave room in a time out by people I've only just met, but I’m just dandy.” Sheppard barked out a laugh. “I’m just hungry. And tired.” Rodney finished on a less sarcastic note.

 

Narrowing his eyes, Ronon pointed out that Rodney had just been sitting there, which wasn’t an especially tiring activity.

 

“Yes, well, I get tired just watching you all pummel each other. You may get a kick out of it, but _I_ have something called common sense.”

 

And he _was_ tired, which was the weird thing. It had been setting in slowly, a creeping sense of exhaustion, but all attempts to nap during his supposed ‘reflection’ had been unsuccessful. He wondered briefly if the Chamber had a way of _knowing_ , before realizing that that was ridiculous.

 

“Well, you’ve got plenty of time to nap, so by all means, feel free.” Sheppard suggested.

 

Rodney glared at him. “As if I could, with all this racket.”

 

He could have, probably, under usual circumstances. Rodney was a very heavy sleeper, really, no matter how much he complained about noise. He chose not to mention the failed attempts at napping earlier, if only because he had the feeling Teyla would have been less than impressed with how he’d chosen to spend his time.

 

“Oh, I’m _so_ sorry that the way we’re taking _your_ punishment is inconvenient for you,” Sheppard said, pasting a fake apologetic expression on his face. Rodney scowled at him, and Sheppard grinned back.

 

Conversation over, everyone went back to what they were doing before- which meant that the three fighters of the group went back to fighting- or, more accurately, Ronon and Teyla went back to kicking Sheppard’s ass- and Rodney stared at the wall some more, wished he had food, and thought about how Rod, back in his home universe, probably never had to put up with stuff like this.

 

\----------

 

It was starting to get hot in the Chamber.

 

Rodney pulled off his jacket and set it down beside him, but it didn’t seem to help much. He briefly considered taking his shirt off, too, before deciding that he’d rather burn alive than let his team see him shirtless.

 

It wasn’t that far yet, anyway. Hot enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to be anything more than that. He wiped some sweat off of his brow, mildly disgusted, and turned to the others.

 

They were taking a short break from pounding away at each other, with Teyla reminding Ronon and Sheppard why it would be a bad idea to desecrate the Chamber of Reflection by scratching doodles into the wall with Ronon’s knives. Rodney knew she had a good point, but he kind of wished she hadn’t made said good point, because scratching meaningless drivel into the walls would be more fun than sitting and thinking about all the cool adventures _Rod_ was probably having.

 

It never hurt to be on the side of the victors, though, so Rodney took the opportunity to call out, “Right, graffiti the sacred, ritualistic prison chamber. That’s a great idea. Why don’t we burn down their local church, too?”

 

As the three turned, having half-forgotten that Rodney was there (and wasn’t _that_ a thought?). “Rodney.”

 

“Yes, yes, how very astute of you, Colonel. I am amazed at your brilliant powers of observation. Truly, stupendous work.”

 

Instead of taking the bait, John looked mildly concerned. “You okay, Rodney?”

 

That wasn’t the reaction Rodney had been expecting. “What? Why? Do I look sick? Is something wrong? Does it look bad? Oh god-”

 

“Calm down, McKay.” Sheppard interrupted him, knowing he tended to get carried away. “You’re just flushed. And sweaty. It’s kind of gross, actually. Last I checked, we were the ones working out, and Ronon’s still as dry as when we started.”

 

"Yeah, but Ronon never sweats anyway."

 

Ronon grinned.

 

Teyla crouched down beside Rodney. “Were you ill before we came here?”

 

Ill? Oh, god. “Great. Now we’re stuck in this chamber for eight hours, and have no food, _and_ I’ve caught some terrible disease! I knew something was going to happen, I said it would, and now look. I’ve got some alien flu working it’s way through my system and probably _killing_ me, and we’re not getting back to Atlantis for hours!”

 

“Rodney! Calm. Down. You’re sweating, not having a seizure. You’re not going to die because you’re slightly wet,” Sheppard pointed out. “Besides, there’s no way a flu would act that fast. We can’t have been here more than a few hours.”

 

Rodney nodded. “Right. Right. Good points there. It’s probably just- just- probably just a fever I’ve had for a while that is just presenting itself now. Right?”

 

“Exactly. See? You’re fine.” John looked oddly relieved. “And if it helps, when we get out of here you can go see Beckett and yell at all the nurses.”

 

“Fine. But if it turns out to be an alien virus eating me from the inside out, I’m getting Ronon to kick your ass.”

 

Ronon grinned from behind Sheppard and nodded in agreement. “Again.”

 

\--------

 

It wasn’t the most interesting game, but it was one that helped pass the time.

 

“Okay, 393.”

 

“Easy. Not prime. 2971.”

 

It took longer than usual before Rodney responded, “Prime.” Then there was another beat before he tacked on a number. “1447.”

 

When John just looked at him, Rodney scoffed. “Too hard, Sheppard?”

 

“Hardly. Prime. 3515.”

 

It took even longer now for Rodney to answer. “Pr- not prime. Not prime.”

 

John shot him another look, trying to pack it full of questions and concern, but, with his luck, probably just managing to look constipated.

 

Apparently his meaning got across however, because McKay scowled. “What? I’m _ill_ , Sheppard, in case you’ve forgotten. That means my head is pounding, which makes it a little difficult to focus on how prime a number may or may not be.”

 

“Makes you moody, too, apparently.”

 

“Shut up, Sheppard. You try to ‘stay positive’ when you’re sick, and bored, and sweating, and your head feels like it’s going to fucking explode. And even worse than that, I’m so fucking _hungry_ \- oh. Oh. _Oh_.” Then McKay started to laugh, before stopping abruptly and raising a hand to his head, eyes shut tightly.

 

“Rodney?” John asked, unsure exactly what the hell was going on. Teyla and Ronon were staring, too, from across the room, where they’d been sparring a minute ago. Even Ronon looked concerned, in his own way.

 

“I figured it out. I’m not sick, you’re just stupid. At least I’ve got an excuse for not having noticed, you guys are just blind.”

 

John tried to figure out if he should be concerned or offended. He decided he was kind of both. “Right. You’re flushed and sweaty and have a headache because I’m stupid. Weird how I never made that connection.”

 

Rodney scowled at him. “No, you idiot. It’s hypoglycemia. You know, that thing I kept telling you about this morning?”

 

“Right. Well, it can’t be so bad, right? Carson would never let you out of the gate if it was.” John knew he was reaching, a little, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t entirely wrong, either. McKay, being McKay, had a tendency to exaggerate things, and eight hours wasn’t long enough for _anybody_ to starve- though if anybody could find a way, it  _would_ be McKay, wouldn't it?

 

Staring at him with a look on his face that John couldn’t read for once, Rodney finally responded, “Sure.”

 

\--------

 

It was quiet for a while.

 

Everyone had mostly given up on trying to find ways to entertain themselves, and had instead settled into a (mostly) comfortable silence. Ronon may or may not have been asleep; it was hard to tell with him, sometimes.The only noise besides their breathing was the sound of Rodney’s increasingly rapid finger tapping.

 

Finally, John started getting annoyed at the repetitive noise. “McKay, would you cut it out?”

 

Rodney looked up at him then with wide, frantic eyes. He was still sweating, but his skin had gone pale. “Take my pulse.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Rodney grabbed John’s hand and put it up to his neck. “Take my pulse. It can’t be as fast as it feels, right?”

 

John moved his hand until he could feel Rodney’s pulse. He didn’t know how fast Rodney _thought_ it was, but it couldn’t have been too much slower. “It’s- it’s pretty fast, Rodney.”

 

“Oh. Oh. Oh, that’s not good. No, no, that’s bad. That’s faster than it should be. I’m not going to die of starvation, after all, I’m going to have a damn heart attack. Oh my God, oh God, okay, okay, okay, fuck-”

 

Teyla was there, then, rubbing circles into Rodney’s back. “You are alright, Rodney.”

 

“You’re going to be fine, buddy, nobody’s going to have a heart attack, okay?”

 

“Can I- can I- can I have some space? Please? I can’t- I can’t breathe like this. The walls- they weren’t so close, before, right? This room used to be bigger. How can we- how do we even fit into it now? It’s too- too small, and it’s a fucking race, now, isn’t it? What’s going to kill me first- hypoglycemia, a heart attack, or getting crushed to death by these walls?”

 

Giving Rodney a little more space, John tried to calm him down. “The room isn’t getting smaller, you’re not having a heart attack, and you’re not going to die. You’re just having a panic attack, that’s all. You’re going to be okay.”

 

Ronon, definitely awake now, stood off to the side, watching and looking frustrated that he couldn’t do anything. John could sympathize. Despite his best efforts, Rodney continued to ramble in short, shallow breaths. “Just a panic attack? _Just_ a panic attack? Oh, that’s rich, that’s really rich. You know what can cause a panic attack, besides being trapped in a small room with three other people for hours when you’re claustrophobic? _Hypoglycemia_.  I told you, I told you this was a bad idea, and it’s actually almost hilarious if you think about it. I’m fucking exhausted, still, but I’m having a panic attack anyway, and I’m using up energy I don’t think I even have, and that’s just going to make my blood sugar even lower, which will make the panic worse, and it’s a stupid, vicious cycle that just means I get to die even faster! If I survive this, Sheppard, I’m going to kick your-”

 

Then Rodney stopped suddenly, turning around and vomiting on the floor. “Oh, this is just-” He threw up again. “This is just great, really, because now I’m going to starve _and_ dehydrate _and_ have a heart attack! I hate this, I really do, and this is why food is a thing that I eat, Sheppard! I haven’t- I haven’t had an episode like this since, since, since I was a kid, I don’t think- goddammit-” Rodney vomited a third time.

 

John and Teyla were still trying to calm him down, while Ronon looked like he was going to break something. Meanwhile, Rodney was clutching his stomach like he was trying to keep down what was left in it, chanting, “I hate this, I hate this, I don’t want to die, I hate this-”

 

“ _McKay_.”

 

“What?” Rodney’s head whipped up to stare at Ronon, seemingly surprised that he was finally deciding to participate.

 

Ronon bent down, putting a firm hand on Rodney’s shoulder. “Breathe, McKay.”

 

“I can’t, I said that already, it’s too- it’s-”

 

“ _Breathe_. You’re not going to help yourself by panicking like this. It’s hard, but you have to focus on your breathing. In… out… in… out…”

 

Much to John and Teyla’s surprise, Rodney did as he was told. It took several minutes, but eventually he was much closer to calm. Instead of panicking, he breathed deeply and buried his head in his knees. He was still shaking, but John couldn’t tell if that was from the panic or another symptom of hypoglycemia.

 

John was currently trying not to panic himself. This wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was get in, wait a few hours, and get out, not get in, watch Rodney suddenly become violently ill, wait a few hours, and then rush to the infirmary. He’d asked Carson when he’d first put Rodney on his team, and Carson had said that Rodney should be fine, if he just remembered to eat regularly and made sure to carry something around with him just in case-

 

The powerbars. That was Rodney’s back-up plan. Damnit! Why hadn’t Rodney just eaten a regular breakfast? Why couldn’t the Arkenians just have shot at them like normal people insteading of locking them in here? Why hadn’t John fucking _listened_?

 

John sat with Rodney while Teyla and Ronon banged on the walls in the hopes that someone was close enough to hear them.

 

\--------

 

It was starting to get difficult to find new things to fill the silence with.

 

Ronon and Teyla had stopped trying to call for help. They’d already known that the Arkenians did not stay nearby, but rather left and returned once the reflection period was up, and this had just been confirmed when no one answered. John and Teyla were now taking turns talking to- or talking _at_ \- Rodney. Rodney, for his part, was still sitting with his head between his knees, shaking, keeping up an almost silent litany of “ _I hate this, I hate this, I hate this_ ,” in the background. Every now and then he’d turn to the side and dry-heave, looking miserable.

 

Even Rodney’s chanting had stopped a while ago. He still seemed to be awake, so they kept talking for him. It was weird to be the one doing the talking with McKay around, but then this whole thing seemed weird to John. Rodney’d been fine when they went in. Now, a few hours later, he was shaking and silent and covered in vomit, and it was as simple as that. There’d been no big event, no climactic fight, no injuries. Rodney was fine, and then he wasn’t, and John was still having trouble wrapping his head around it.

 

John was absently rambling about Aunt Calpurnia when Rodney looked up, eyes looking glazed and confused. At first, John expected him to turn and retch again, but he was surprised when Rodney just looked from side to side before seemingly focusing on John.

 

“Sh’p’rd?” The word was slow and slurred, and John felt his pulse speed up.

 

“Yeah, buddy?”

 

Rodney was slow in responding, but after about a minute asked, “W’t the h’ll ‘re you t’k’n ‘bt?”

 

“My aunt, Calpurnia.”

 

“Oh,” and then, after a long moment, “Why?

 

John tried to laugh, but it didn’t sound very convincing even to himself. “I don’t know. I guess I thought it might make things easier for you?”

 

“‘m I h’rt?” John saw Teyla freeze a little, and felt himself do the same. Rodney didn’t seem to notice. “W’r- w’er ‘re we?”

 

“We’re in a place called the Chamber of Reflection on a planet called Arken. You insulted the native religion, and we were put here for what you called a ‘time out.’ According to you, you’re having a hypoglycemic reaction.” Ronon explained, keeping his voice level, though his eyes were narrowed and focused sharply on his teammate. “How do you feel?”

 

“S’k. H’d h’rts. Stom’k. Thr’t. I w’na g’ h’m.”

 

It was hard to understand what he was saying, but they got it after a minute. “We cannot return to Atlantis yet, Rodney.” Teyla said softly.

 

“W’y n’t?”

 

“We’re still on time out. Shouldn’t be too much longer.” John forced a grin.

 

“St’p’d. W’y?”

 

“You insulted their religion.”

 

“W’t rel’g’n?”

 

“The Arkenian religion.”

 

“‘Rkn?”

 

“The ones who put us here.”

 

“W’r?”

 

“The Chamber of Reflection.”

 

“W’t?”

 

Sheppard decided to change the subject. “Did you ever have a dog, Rodney?”

 

“D’n buh d’d.”

 

John had no idea what that meant. “How about a cat?”

 

“I l’m c mn” Rodney’s speech was getting less and less intelligible.

 

“Do you just want _us_ to talk?”

 

Enough time passed without a response that Sheppard thought he wasn’t going to get one before Rodney finally made a noise that John assumed was affirmative.

 

As John told Rodney about the time Aunt Calpurnia was arrested for murder, he saw the physicist’s body start to go limp- limper. “Rodney?”

 

No response. “Shit. Shit. Rodney?” Still nothing. Teyla grabbed him as he slumped to the ground, shaking him urgently. Rodney didn’t stir.

 

John and Ronon were up quickly, banging and yelling at the door, wishing someone would open it and let them out. They were at it for what seemed like forever before they heard a pained swear in the background and a series of thumps. Turning, they saw Rodney spasming on the floor and Teyla glancing rapidly between him and them. “What do we do?”

 

Ronon turned and tried blasting his way out- not for the first time. It didn’t work this time either, and barely even left a mark. The only way out of here was through the door, and they couldn’t open it from inside.

 

An eternity passed before the thumping sound finally stopped. “His breathing is very shallow,’ Teyla told them, her voice tinged with panic, “and his pulse is very fast. He still isn’t responding.”

 

\--------

 

It had been eight hours since the Arkenians had shown their guests to the Chamber of Reflection.

 

As Tamen approached the Chamber to release his new trading partners, he was alarmed to hear shouts and gun blasts coming from inside the building. It didn’t make any sense. True, they were a strange group, but surely not even they had managed to turn Reflection into a gunfight?

 

He and his guards hurried towards the Chamber, his guards armed and prepared for a fight. As soon as the door was open, the Atlanteans burst out of the room, the rude one limp in the arms of the large one. The rude one was half-covered in vomit and appeared almost dead, while the leader went straight for their packs and dug through them frantically.

 

“What... what happened?” Tamen asked, shaken. He’d never seen anything like this happen in Reflection.

 

“He wasn’t kidding about needing to eat.” The large one said gruffly. Just then, the leader hurried over, holding something wrapped in metal.

 

As the leader unwrapped it and started to shove it into the rude one’s mouth, Teyla grabbed his arm and stopped him. “Colonel,” she said, voice low, “if you attempt to force-feed him now, he will only choke to death.”

 

“Look at him, Teyla, he’s dying _now_.”

 

“And you wish to be the one who kills him for certain? We do not have time for this. We must return to Atlantis.” Teyla grabbed the rude one from her larger friend’s arms, slinging him over her shoulder as she took off towards the Ring of the Ancestors. Tamen had heard that she was strong, though he was surprised by her determination as she carried the heavier man away quickly.

 

The leader and the large one followed her, and Tamen could do nothing but stare after their retreating backs. They hadn’t even grabbed their things.

 

He prayed that the rude one would survive, and that this did not ruin negotiations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope that was an okay chapter. I'm not a doctor and I don't know much about hypoglycemia. I got all of my info from Google, and I don't have a beta, so any mistakes are all mine.


	3. Denouement

It had been a given that something would go wrong on this mission.

When Elizabeth had told Sheppard to go ahead with an 8-hour alien ritual, she had prepared herself for the worst. She’d had Teyla and Tamen’s reassurance that nothing would happen, but with the team’s track record, she’d been prepared for injuries. She’d been prepared for the team to rush back under fire, stain the gateroom floor with blood, and raggedly announce that trading was off.

She had not been prepared for Rodney to be still and silent in Teyla’s arms, covered in vomit instead of blood, and look half-dead.

But that’s exactly what she got. Carson had been on standby just in case- Elizabeth tried to learn from her mistakes- and his team had a stretcher for Teyla to lay the astrophysicist on as soon as she came through the gate. John and Ronon followed the medical team to the infirmary, but Teyla stayed behind a moment, looking exhausted.

Elizabeth took the opportunity to ask what had gone wrong.

Teyla took a moment to answer, catching her breath. “Dr. McKay made the mistake of insulting the native religion. I do not believe he meant to, but you know how he is. It is his way.” She smiled briefly, then stopped, looking back in the direction the rest of her team had gone.

“You can tell me on the way,” Elizabeth said, starting to walk towards the infirmary. “I know everything up until you went into the Chamber of Reflection, Colonel Sheppard told me that much. You were just supposed to sit and reflect for eight hours, what happened?”

Teyla looked grim, and vaguely guilty. “When we agreed to the ritual, Rodney complained that he had a medical condition that prohibited him from going without food for long periods of time. Thinking that he was exaggerating, as is his habit, we insisted that he do so for the purpose of the ritual. We did not want to risk losing a valuable trading partner for something so petty as this.” Her face tightened slightly. “It seems our judgement was poor.”

Elizabeth froze. “That was his hypoglycemia? I’d thought-”

But it didn’t matter what she’d thought. As leader of this expedition, it was her responsibility to be fully aware of health complications, not assume they were the product of hypochondria. If she’d taken this more seriously, she never would have approved the ritual. She would have talked it out with Tamen, who was by all accounts a perfectly reasonable man, and none of this would have to have happened.

“If I’d realized it was so serious, I would never have let him through the ‘gate.”

Hearing this, Teyla threw her a sharp look. “It was a result of poor judgement. A mistake we will not make again. This has never proven to be a problem before, and we will go to great lengths to ensure that it does not become one again. Rodney is part of the team, Dr. Weir, and we do not intend to change that. I am sure he does not, either.”

“Even after this?”

Teyla didn’t respond, her face hardening. “We have been through worse together.”

\--------

It was all Ronon could do not to hit something.

He hated waiting. He could sit for hours, listening for predators, but when someone he cared about- a member of his _team_ \- was in trouble, patience flew out the window.

Sheppard was still answering the doctors’ questions.

“Did he ingest any alien substances?”

“No. I think that was part of the problem.”

“Do you know the cause of his current state?”

“He said it was hypoglycemia.”

“How long has he been unresponsive?”

“I don’t know. There were no clocks in there.”

“Are their any other injuries?”

“You mean _besides_ vomiting, passing out and having a seizure?... No.”

Whole minutes had probably passed since Beckett had whisked McKay into the infirmary, a nurse shutting the door behind them. Maybe more, maybe less. Damn- Ronon really, really hated not knowing how much time was passing.

Finally, Beckett stepped out of the infirmary. He kept his expression cool and professional, for the most part, but Ronon could see lines of worry around his eyes. “As we suspected, it seems to be hypoglycemia. It’s a good thing you brought him back when you did- too much longer and we may have been looking at permanent brain damage.”

“ _Brain damage_?” Weir’s voice rang out at the same time as Sheppard’s, signaling her arrival. Teyla arrived with her.

Beckett nodded gravely. “Aye. When left untreated, a hypoglycemic episode can lead to serious brain damage or even death, and in this case already progressed to a comatose state. He’s not entirely out of the woods yet, but we’ve started him on treatment and he should make a full recovery.”

Okay, Ronon was definitely going to hit something. Maybe Sheppard. Yeah, actually, hitting Sheppard sounded like _exactly_ what he wanted to do. Except that that would be a really bad idea, so Ronon could wait until the next time he got John to ‘train’ with him.

It wasn’t Sheppard’s fault, not really, but Ronon had to be angry at _someone_ , and Sheppard was the easiest target right now.

Beckett was talking again. “Knowing Rodney, I don’t understand how he could have let it get this far.”

Before Ronon could pipe up, Sheppard was straightening up. “He didn’t have much choice, Carson. We- I made him do the ritual, even though he told us about his hypoglycemia. Repeatedly.”

Dumbstruck, Beckett froze. A minute passed before he spoke again. “You _what_?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I didn’t think it was possible for it to get this bad in just a few hours. That was my mistake; one he’ll have to pay for.”

Beckett still didn’t move. “He didn’t tell you it could progress this far?”

To anyone who didn’t know Sheppard, he would have looked like a stone wall. To those who did, though, he was obviously guilty and embarrassed. “He told us we were asking him to ‘starve to death.’ He seemed fine, it didn’t-” Sheppard cut himself off, not wanting to make excuses. Ronon didn’t think there were any good ones to make anyway.

The good doctor was glaring at them. “Well. We’ll have a conversation about this later. In the meanwhile, I have a patient to attend to.”

\--------

It wasn’t often that Carson found himself truly angry.

True, he’d scold patients who refused to follow his orders, and he’d somehow managed to get a reputation as someone who’d yell at anyone who so much as looked wrong at a patient, but he was really a very easygoing person. It was difficult to really make him mad.

Unless someone nearly got his best friend killed because they wouldn’t listen when said friend told them about a _serious medical condition_. That tended to piss him off- a lot, actually. Now, he knew none of the team had meant for this to happen, but that was hardly an excuse. When the Colonel had first put Rodney on his team, he’d come to Carson to ask about things like Rodney’s allergies and hypoglycemia. Carson had told him that Rodney should be fine for off-world travel, so long as he ate regularly and had food with him for when his blood sugar dropped.

Apparently, the Colonel had somehow taken this to mean that Rodney didn’t actually _have_ hypoglycemia, or that it wasn’t important enough to think about, and had let a group of people who likely didn’t even know what hypoglycemia was lock Rodney up for eight hours without so much as his powerbars. Maybe he was being petty, but he’d expected better judgment than that from Colonel Sheppard. And considering that it was his _best friend_ on the infirmary bed, he thought he had the right to be a little petty.

Elizabeth wanted to know if Rodney needed to be taken off the team. She’d thrown out “for his own good” and “liability” in the same breath, making Carson wonder which one she cared about more.

Carson wasn’t going to restrict Rodney from going off-world. Of course it was dangerous, but it was dangerous for everybody who went- they’d had enough casualties throughout their stay in the Pegasus galaxy to make that clear. He doubted Rodney would have _let them_ restrict him either; as much as the scientist complained, he loved being on the team.

Which meant that now the team had to be dealt with to make sure they understood some basic concepts. It was one thing to get into a fight with belligerent natives or accidentally awaken some wraith; it was quite another to put a teammate in danger because you couldn’t take them seriously.

Now, hours later, Carson stood in front of the SGA-1 team members who _weren’t_ lying comatose in the infirmary. Teyla and Colonel Sheppard were seated, but Ronon was just standing and glaring at the walls from behind them. Sheppard looked even more uncomfortable; despite Carson’s lingering anger, he doubted anyone blamed Colonel Sheppard more than the Colonel himself.  

“Dr. Weir is considering having Rodney removed from the team.”

As Teyla’s face tightened- Elizabeth had told Carson that they’d already discussed it- Ronon’s hand moved subconsciously to his blaster, and Sheppard stood abruptly, nearly knocking over his seat. “ _What_?”

Well, at least he knew now that the team would fight to keep Rodney, as well. Not that Carson had ever expected any differently. “She’s concerned that Rodney’s medical problems will cause further complications in the field. Not only could something like this happen again, but it also makes him particularly vulnerable when the team is captured. She’s unsure that we should be sending out our Chief Science Officer, knowing the circumstances.”

“Bullshit! This is hardly the first time we’ve brought someone back in bad shape, and it’s definitely not the first time _McKay’s_ almost died, either.” Colonel Sheppard was glowering at him, as if somehow this was Carson’s fault.

It wasn’t like this had been Carson’s idea. Still, when it came to medical issues, it was his job to make sure everything was clearly understood, and that included informing team leaders on problems with their team. “No, but it’s the first time it’s a problem that applies specifically to Rodney. Getting shot or crashing a jumper can happen to anybody; meanwhile, all four of you did exactly the same thing Rodney did, but he’s the only one in the infirmary, because of his hypoglycemia. That’s what concerns Dr. Weir.”

“It isn’t- it was a mistake. A stupid, dangerous mistake, I know. But we know now. We won’t agree to anything stupid like that again, we’ll, you know, take precautions.”

“It’s not that simple. He’s also a bigger liability if the team gets captured- you lot can survive a few days with little to no food; Rodney can’t. And eating an alien fruit that turns out too similar to citrus fruits, or getting stung by a creature like a bee, can send him into anaphylactic shock. Those aren’t necessarily things you can just choose to avoid.” Carson frowned. His job was to present the facts and help the team make a decision that was still medically sound, not to convince them of Weir’s position. Still, he was starting to almost convince _himself_.

“You don’t get it, we _need_ McKay on the team. Zelenka and the other scientists are good, sure, but they’re not going to pull a miracle out of their ass like McKay can.” Sheppard was growing slightly desperate around the edges.

Teyla nodded. “None of us wish to see any harm come to Rodney, but we do not believe that the answer is to remove him from the team.”

Ronon didn’t say anything; he just glared harshly at Carson and fondled him blaster. “Besides,” Sheppard added, “if Ronon can hide like a hundred knives in his hair, he can sure as hell hide an epipen.” At that, Ronon nodded and pulled an epipen seemingly out of thin air. Carson stared for a moment, unsure how to react to that but feeling strangely touched on Rodney’s behalf.

“Well. That’s all very well and good, but the point still stands. You’ll need to discuss it with Dr. Weir, of course, but there’s no need to decide now.”

“There’s nothing to decide,” Colonel Sheppard insisted. “He’s not leaving the team.”

The Colonel continued glaring at him. Carson was desperately unused to an antagonistic relation with the man, and hoped it would not be a lasting development, regardless of either one’s less than ideal behavior this past day.

Carson decided to try for a smile, regardless of how stiff he could feel that it was. “Ultimately, I suppose it’s Rodney’s choice.”

\--------

It was not the most fun conversation John had ever had.

“You’re kicking me off the team?” Rodney asked incredulously, looking wounded. It was moments like this that John really, really wished the scientist were less expressive.

“Of course not, McKay! Weir’s just worried about you, is all. I’ve already told her we’re not taking you off the team-” John stopped suddenly, uncertain. Rodney wouldn’t want to leave the team, right? Sure, he complained about it a lot, but he liked it as much as John did. And yes, John had made a stupid call this past mission, but if Wraith didn’t scare McKay off the team, neither would this. Maybe. John hoped so, anyway. “Unless you want us to?”

McKay looked at him like he was the stupidest person he’d ever seen.. “Why the hell would I want that?”

“You nearly _died_.”

Rodney waved it away. “Oh, that was _days_ ago.”

“You were in a coma, Rodney.”

“Oh really? Thanks for telling me, I hadn’t noticed.” McKay rolled his eyes. “Besides, it’s hardly like this is the first time I’ve almost died. Not a fan, personally, but what are you going to do?” He shrugged.

John frowned. “I should’ve listened.”

“Yes, you should have- you should always listen to me. And I am angry about that, so I’m taking your dessert for at least two weeks. It’s the least you owe me.”

“In my defense, I thought you were just complaining to complain, like when you say something’s impossible, or pretend you don’t find me absolutely charming.”

Rodney scowled at him. “So when I say, ‘This could literally kill me,’ you’ve decided that means ‘Ignore me, I don’t really care, I’m just trying to win Pegasus’s Next Top Hypochondriac?’”

“Yeah, but you also say ‘this could literally kill me’ when I’m drinking orange juice.”

“Well, it could! Hypothetically! Like what if something happened and you had to do mouth-to-mouth CPR or something? Instead of saving me, you’d just end up making it worse!”

John fixed him a serious stare. “Rodney, be honest. If I had to give you mouth-to-mouth, would you really _want_ to be saved at that point?”

Rodney nodded, considering. “Fair point, Colonel. But still, you never know.”

“But seriously. I fucked up, and I’m sorry.”

“Ugh, is it already that part of the recovery where I have to hold your hand and make you feel better after _my_ life-threatening illness?”  
  


“What? What are you talking about?”

“You know, that part where you get all moody and no matter how much you _think_ you look broody and cool but you really just look constipated, and then I have to pat your head and coo ‘it’s not your fault’ until you fall asleep because you’re a giant child? Because it actually _is_ your fault this time; you just don’t have to get all weird about it.”

“Alright, I’m not sure what drugs Carson has you on, but that’s not how anything has ever happened. Ever. And I’m trying to be, you know, sincere!”

“Yeah,” Rodney said, shifting uncomfortably. “That’s the problem.”

John sighed. “Alright, fair. So you’re not quitting the team?”

“Did you ever actually think I would?”

“No.”

\--------

It was an almost fortunate, in the matter of trade, that things had happened as they had.

Not that Teyla was really grateful, or would ever repeat the incident. But Tamen was so terrified that the Atlanteans would cancel the trade agreement- or worse, seek revenge- for Rodney’s condition, that he offered them a good deal more as a sign of good faith. Elizabeth would never take advantage, of course, but if someone offered more of the coffee-like beans for the scientists, she could hardly refuse.

Teyla stayed behind for a little bit to be sure that the Arkenians were not offering anything they could not afford to give out of a misplaced fear of being attacked.

Tamen was still concerned about Rodney’s fate. “Are you certain your scientist will be well?”

“Yes, Dr. McKay will be fine. It was very close; if we had been in there much longer, we may have lost him. But he is a strong man, regardless of what most may believe, and he has come through.”

Looking only slightly less nervous, Tamen nodded. “We truly did not mean for anything to happen. Reflection is meant to be a peaceful form of atonement, a way to learn from past sins. No one has ever been hurt before, and we still do not understand what happened.”

Suddenly, Teyla realized that none of the Atlanteans had taken the time to explain what had happened. Even as someone had gone back for their bags- Colonel Sheppard insisted that Rodney would be furious if they left his backpack behind- they had, apparently, been very vague about Dr. McKay’s condition.

hen providing details about Rodney’s condition. “You need not be concerned; from what I understand, Dr. McKay is afflicted with a disease they call ‘reactive hypoglycemia.’ The disease is one that makes it very dangerous for people like Dr. McKay to go for even relatively short periods of time without food.”

Tamen looked curious. “Did you not know before that he had this disease? Had I known, I would not have asked him to participate in the ritual.”

“Dr. McKay made us aware of his condition many times in the past.” Teyla said, embarrassed. “I’m afraid we thought he was embellishing the truth, as is sometimes his way. This was poor judgement on our part, and not a mistake we plan to repeat.”

“I was surprised by your strength when you carried him away. I knew that the Athosians are a well-trained people, and that you are a talented warrior, but I found myself impressed with your performance,” Tamen changed the subject, perhaps sensing Teyla’s embarrassment.

Teyla smiled gently at this. “Yes, many tend to forget that I am not only capable of defeating Colonel Sheppard, but do so on an almost daily basis. They forget even more often that I have defeated many Wraith alone. I suspect it has something to do with my smaller frame- or perhaps it is because the Atlanteans have strange traditions regarding men and women.”

“I am glad that this incident did not interfere much with our trade agreement.”

“As are we all.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to end pretty quickly after the end of chapter 2, but it kind of got way away from me. Sorry. The last chapter is just a short epilogue.


	4. Epilogue

It was only a few hours into the mission that things went wrong.

 

As the team found out, the natives on the planet turned out to be highly suspicious of anyone who came through the gate, and threw them all into a cell as soon as they let down their guard. It was so infuriatingly predictable that Rodney couldn’t believe they hadn’t seen it coming.

 

Now, all four of them were stuck in a dingy, disgustingly humid prison. Rodney’s stomach rumbled. “Great,” he moaned. “I’m already hungry.”

 

Before he had a chance to say anything else, he saw two chocolate bars pointed right at him, seemingly out of nowhere. He followed the arms that held them to see Sheppard and Teyla looking concerned. Rodney didn’t know whether to be flattered, surprised, or both.

 

“How the hell did you get those in here? They took all our stuff.”

 

“Ronon’s not the only one who knows how to hide things,” Sheppard said with a grin.

 

“And you decided to hide a _chocolate bar_?” Rodney asked; the idea seemed absurd to him.

 

“Along with some other items, yes,” Teyla responded, “We do not to wish to see you fall ill again.”

 

Seeing Rodney’s face, Sheppard added, “Yeah, I hate reruns.”

 

Rodney stared at them, trying to figure out what to say. Finally, he decided on, “That’s really- I really appreciate that, I do, but just for future reference- milk chocolate isn’t exactly a recommended snack for when you’re having a hypoglycemic episode. Just FYI.”

 

Sheppard looked dumbstruck. “But it’s got plenty of sugar.”

 

“Something to do with fats or saturation or something. You’re supposed to eat ‘healthier sugars,’” Rodney explained, using exaggerated finger quotes- he was still of the firm belief that medicine was a voodoo science- “things like nuts or fruits or something.”

 

Even before he could finish talking, a bag of mixed nuts nailed him in the side of the head. Startled, he looked around for the culprit. “What the hell? Who now? Is Carson lurking in the shadows?”

 

He caught Ronon grinning at him. “I’ve got a banana, too, in case you need it.”

 

Then Sheppard and Ronon were arguing on whether or not Ronon should have told Teyla and the Colonel that the chocolate bars they were hiding weren’t particularly helpful- “ _you just did this to make me look stupid, didn’t you_?”- and Teyla was watching with her usual mixture of amused exasperation.

 

Meanwhile, Rodney was most definitely _not_ feeling warmth creep through his chest, because they were being held captive and that would be _stupid_. And if he broke a smile, well, it was just amusement at the look on Sheppard’s face.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 is kind of short and boring compared to the next one, but chapter 2 should be up by tomorrow.


End file.
